Lest we forget – pointing noses in the right direction
Not since the end of WWII, when a world weary from the ravages of two wars needed to be reminded of the need for sensible leaders as we do today. Even if you shout hoarse that all man and women are equal I will still say that in the human or animal world there will be some leaders and the rest followers. It is just the foundation of all plural societies – the ablest and bravest will lead. And it is often in the interest of the others to follow or oppose. But leaders take the initiative. Most of us value leadership after we suffer from lack of it, either in ourselves or in others. It doesn’t matter what station you are in life. When people in a group needs to move someone has to initiate, whether for a moment, or until the goal is reached. But how do people develop into leaders? We learn it here from animals.
The pointer or setter is a hunting dog. Traditionally it is bred to sniff out game or retrieve for hunters. Discipline is foremost in a good gun-dog. But obedience and concentration separates a good hunting dog from the others. Several principles stand out from our dog story. Firstly, a good leader knows when to follow. When the master Dick has done his work he signals the dog Rip – it becomes his call – from following Rip becomes the leader, knowing what and where to go. In the animal kingdom, just as in humankind the leader has the knowledge. During the hunt Rip sets out excited and active with the rest of the pack, their noses trained to sense quickly the way forward. Then when they see the game every inch of their senses work. But instead of rushing the booty Rip will freeze at a safe distance and assume the stance, while waiting for the slower master to arrive. Rushing the booty might cause the injured game to run or hide. One time Dick was riding his horse and while looking for game, his horse was frightened by a strange sound and bolted off without him. Instantly Rip got the cue and gave chase, sniffing as he goes, Dick running slower behind. That’s the second quality – a leader never gives up on unfamiliar tasks. After some time they came upon a hillock and Rip circled around and then twang!! – he froze into a pointer stance. There was the horse, its head shaking in confusion. The third principle – leaders don’t give up. They do their job until there’s nothing else to do. Once a game that Dick shot flew over a marsh and landed in a lake. So when he signaled Rip he half-expected him to return empty-handed, or in this case, empty paws. But no – Rip ran as far as he could – thru marshy flats and then to the edge of the lake. Then twang!! Rip froze in a stance pointing at the dead bird floating in the middle of the lake. But Dick stood far off and signaled him to fetch. It took a while for Rip to circumscribe to a nearest point, then swam out in freezing water to retrieve the bird. With hugs and praises Rip learnt that no obstacle was not worth a try. But leaders must also admit they aren’t perfect. One time after he was signaled to go after a game another shot rang out. Rip was confused seeing two birds falling from the sky. When he pointed out the wrong partridge Dick was amused. But everything was forgiven. Many weak-willed children today give up at the slightest of difficulty, or stood up promises to appear at the most paltry excuses of inconvenience. Not Rip. Even when he goes hungry. It happened at an accident.
One day Dick was so excited after he spotted and running after game that he did not notice a small gully. When he fell into the burn Rip ran around barking excitedly but not knowing what to do next. He could however hear the feeble groans of his master. But he stuck around faithful to be nearby. After sometime, Dick came to and weakly called out to Rip. Go get help were his words. It was several hours later when the sun had started to set. Rip had never heard such instructions, but something within told him that this was something urgent. Whimpering a little, Rip tried to jump in after his master but withdrew after sensing its depth. Go home Rip – get help was the faltering words. So whimpering and half-barking Rip sped off, using his senses to find home. Leaders always have something within themselves to do the right thing. After reaching home in the cold Rip could not settle down until somebody realized something was wrong with Dick. All that time Rip never rested to recover himself or even sip a drink. So they set out to look for his master with Rip panting and in a hyper state. Then when they neared the fated gully, twang!! – Rip gave the signature pose, nose showing where his master had fallen. Only after his master was safely resting at home did he eat or drink. But leaders never rest for long – there’s always the next hill. Twang !!
Sharing feathers in Life-long friendship
A December 2016 study reported that there are 18 000 different bird species in the world, compared to 15 human species stated in 2014. Today only one human specie – the homo sapiens thrive. Yet they both share a distinct trait – social interaction. Birds can identify themselves by their plumage and sounds important for breeding and safety. Humans? That is our topic now – friendship. It is the origin of all activity in our conscious life. Children had their frontal lobe development thru the early years from relatives and school friends. Such social interactions are now recognized as the foundations of all human enterprise. Take the story of Sweetie, a trump trogon and Lavelle, a banded kingfisher.
They first met as chicks when they gathered at a watering hole in the Bornean forests. As they played together they found a deep bond which lasted a lifetime. But both have very different backgrounds – Lavelle nests along a stream where fish and water snails and swimmers provide food. Sweetie however thrives in the bush where insects form her staple meal. Their long friendship holds a similarity between a Singaporean girl and her Japanese friend whom she met at a primary school summer function organized by the Japan Association in Singapore. Keiko and Sue struck it off when they first met and had kept in touch long-distance, through the years from different cultures and language. Sue had gone to Japan to celebrate Keiko’s 7-5-3 children’s events and Keiko had returned to travel Malaysian beaches with Sue and enjoying Lunar New years. Each time they met nothing could separate their constant sharing of diverse experiences and deepening friendship. Whenever school holidays come around Sue, with her parents would plan to visit Keiko such as a summer break at the Itami hot-springs. And because they are so far by distance and culture nothing will separate the girls whenever they meet, chatting delightfully late into the night and planning what to do with each family. And the birds? Well Sweetie and Lavelle would flit off hunting insects together. Then they would play along the stream where Lavelle would occasionally snatch a fish or shrimp from the water and share it with her friend. When the storms come both would hide from the showers under their favorite tree covers and sing different tunes while perched for the rain to abate. Sometimes they would meet other species in the shade, each with their own characteristic cries. Such as the blue jay, orange titmouse or the screaming red-breasted robin.
But birds are vulnerable. Whenever a bird of prey swoops around in the neighborhood everyone takes cover. Lavelle and Sweetie would tweet a cry of exasperation and sometimes one would decoy the attacking hawk in order to protect the other. Such devotion in friends. As such Keiko would take it on herself to make sure that Sue doesn’t get lost in Japan’s crowded railways. But it was such adventure travelling in each other’s country’s transport system and exploring shops and books. One time Sue even spent a week as visiting guest in Keiko’s junior school, meeting her friends, enjoying Sport’s Day and participating in day trips. But precious time flies. Soon came the major national exams and the girls were too busy for visits – except for an occasional card or skype phone call the girls grew up quickly and apart. But they made a mutual pact – that they would not let boyfriends replace their friendship. It was a timely pact.
When Keiko turned 20 Sue was invited to her coming of age ceremony. Of course Sue was excited to be in a kimono as well for her own 20th birthday. It was a memorable reunion. Keiko had qualified for medical school while Sue decided on zoology and veterinary medicine. But both excelled in sports and decided to play tennis and golf together. Sue also loved Haiku and got much of Keiko’s teacher-mother to help. When that New Year holidays ended, it would be a long time for the girls to meet again. Sue left for New England enrolled in veterinary grad school while Keiko got really busy at Juntendo Medical. The birds? Well animals don’t make pacts and both started nests for which to hatch their eggs. Family, instead of studies kept them apart, but a new summer found them together again playing by the waterhole with the other colorful Bornean species. Not for the girls. Sue had a new world of friends in the western hemisphere while Keiko found a boyfriend during her intensive internship. Sue deepened her love for animals and vowed to always relieve them from their hardships. Keiko, with her international outlook resolved one day to be in NGO medical missions. For several years the girls lost touch, busy with grad school. But it was a twist of fate that brought them together. Then what about the birds? It became the end of their lifespans. Sweetie’s chicks had grown up and befriended Lavelle’s children. They became close friends as well. But the parents were no more – Sweetie was too weak to catch insects and fell from her tree, while Lavelle made a last dive but failed to surface. Now what happened to the girls?
It was the 2004 Indian ocean tsunami. Keiko had just gotten her license and immediately signed with the NGO’s mission to the “warzone” in Acheh. The devastation was so widespread and helpers shorthanded that soon the neophyte doctor was called to lead a medical center. Daily, everything poured into her hands – injured, dying, starving children and a mishmash of supplies. Public health management was a nightmare – with shortage of water and clean linen to line the operating tables. Meanwhile it was winter in Maine where Sue had just received her diploma in veterinary medicine and surgery. She was celebrating Christmas dinner with her host family when the TV flashed pictures of the earthquake and destruction. Over – awed with the homelessness and wandering victims she asked herself “what can I do? A vet?” Then pictures of wandering livestock and pets appeared and Sue made up her mind. After reuniting with her family and friends a week later, Sue got on a plane with the Singapore military mission. After settling in Sue was pointed to a medical tentage to sign up for duties. Keiko was in charge directing operations when Sue staggered in, still stunned by the scenery. “So you just arrived with the new volunteers?”, Keiko asked, not recognizing each other, because Sue had put on weight in the north American life while Keiko had gotten freckled and masked in medical garb. As Sue wrote down her name on the lapel Keiko gasped. “Suet Ying! Its you!”, flinging off her surgical mask. For what seem like a long time the girls held each other, half crying and laughing in tears. It was a magical moment for lost friends reconnecting after a decade. But they soon got to work in the field, Keiko patching up people and Sue managing livestock and lost pets. Occasionally Sue was a valuable nurse at Keiko’s operating table, having trained in animal surgery. However life in the desperate straits had become so much better with close friends around. Keiko would travel to Sue’s home to recover before resuming her hectic schedule and Sue’s family couldn’t be happier reuniting with her. So time passed quickly. The year became 2011 and the day March 11.
Sue was working in a clinic and left the examination table to check on the supplies to administer the pet medicine. On the TV was another tsunami. The first thought on her mind was that Keiko would be on her way to Tohoku. That evening she phoned the Kimura home and left the message to Keiko that she would be volunteering in Tohoku. A week later was another tearful reunion this time in Japan. And also work to do – can you imagine how many pets and livestock lose their homes and their lives, besides human beings? Sue spent many months doing whatever she could to also help Keiko’s fellow citizens this time and the two friends became close again, in middle age. Sue also found that Keiko, due to the stresses of medical work had just separated from her doctor husband and living alone with her 7 year old daughter while her own parents have become really aged. Thanks to Sue, Keiko found a family again. That summer Sue’s parents came to stay with Keiko after travelling Japan with Sue’s younger brother. It was like a family gathering. The day before she left for home Sue’s mother, seeing how lonely and stressful Keiko’s life have become, brought Keiko to her side and spoke softly to her. “Keiko dear, you are so much just like my daughter. As it is unlikely for Sue to have her own family now, please let your daughter to be like my grand-daughter. We’ll be thrilled to be your extended family.” Then as Keiko held her hands there was a rush of endearing tears.
Imagination the spice in becoming a genius
The European bee-eater breeds in Southern Europe but winter in tropical Africa. The male in its flashing orange wings and blue tips and tail is also a superb flyer, flitting from branch to branch picking off insects or grubs. The busyness intensify come summer – time to build a nest. The bee-eaters of Southern European shores had a challenge – their nests are burrows on the shoreline beaten by the wind. Each time they lay their sticks and hay the breeze blows it off.
Little Albert was 8 years old. His parents lived on the coast and he liked to run out to nature and play, often alone. His family was Jewish and living in Poland at a time of the Third Reich was foreboding but little Albert didn’t worry about the plight of Jews as his parents were. He had such a curiosity around him that even his mother was surprised. And his favorite question was “Why?”, and even before the explanation was complete he had another question. When he turned eight both his parents could not give sufficient satisfactory answers to his curious mind that they started bringing library books into the house and let the boy answer his own queries. But his mind did not stay inside the house. He would play in the beaches and watched the breakers rushed to the shore with wonderment. One day as he lay on the embankment he saw something that seemed to open all the windows of his mind. It was a bee-eater trying to build a nest.
The sea breeze was strong and every time the bird approached its burrow the straw in its beak would blow off before it could place it in the ground. Albert saw the bird, tail tilted into the sky as it resisted the draft. Then he asked himself “Must it have wings? Why must all creatures fall down to earth?” Unknown to him he had started his life-long quest to answer the question about gravity. So each day he would observe the effect of gravity on common everyday objects. But it was not until he became a teen that he hit the jackpot. Like all days after school, Albert would go out alone and lie on the beach. It was dark enough for the stars to appear in the sky. And there he was silently gazing up in wonder at the myriads of faltering twinkling above, some disappearing while others brightened up. Then he ask himself, “Light – isn’t light affected by gravity too? What is light anyway?” It was a question that he would not rest until he found equations to describe it. And he was helped by a historic experiment that he had read after graduation from the German gymnasium. With the concept that nothing can travel at super-luminous speed Albert started the most significant mental exercise in anybody’s life. Just by thinking about space and how nothing can beat light in a race he concluded that space was not immutable in a dimensional sense. Then when he started to propound the equations that supported his hypothesis the scientific world was taken by storm. It was just not naturally human for anyone to believe that space can be affected by gravity, let alone understand what that means.
That was in 1915 when the idea was published and verified there after many times, significantly Lord Eddington’s solar eclipse observation in 1919. The trajectory of modern physics was also significantly affected, in particular astronomy and the behavior of stars, planets and their demise. The interesting thing above all is that such an ingenious discovery did not and would not come from active experiments that one can easily set up and verify in the laboratory. It started with the active imagination of a young boy, who had the time and freedom to roam around and began a likely hypothesis that was described mathematically and verified by scientific observations.
Social skills for life – the capybara
The capybara (Hydrochoerus) is the largest rodent existant in the world. Adults which weigh up to 50 kg and more than a meter long have social habits rated as the friendliest, exceeding that of dogs or dolphins. They love to cuddle in groups and parents coddle their young. Aquatic herds of the amphibian is often seen socializing at banks of rivers or lakes. And they are intelligent as evident from observations at the Izu Shaboten park in Japan. If you visit in winter all the park’s capybara would be drawn to the onsen that is open to them. Being natives of tropical South America it must have been heaven to soak in the hot springs in winter. There they are, dreamy and content to have streams of warm water dousing their still heads and necks. How came the relatives of guinea pigs learned to socialize and developed herding instincts? It is the instinct of survival. We hear the story of Camby and his lesson of developing social skills. People skills are traits that our students ignore at their peril in terms of succeeding in the corporate world. It turns out that Camby has one behavior unlike his fellow rodents – he hates to eat poo. Yes capybaras like guinea pigs do sometimes eat their excreta to re-digest what they consume. Not Camby. In fact sometimes against his instinct he would leave the herd for some fresh air. This happened one day on a thunderstorm.
As Camby left the huddle of his herd for some fresh air it started to rain, harder and harder. Normally capys prefer water but this is different. Shards of water started to pelt Camry’s fatty hide that he decided to look for shelter. There were none – the reed clusters are devoid of trees or cover. Except next to the enclosure wall of the park was a large umbrella which one warden had inadvertently left behind. Camby snuggled under its cover, glad to escape the constant rush of water on his back. But he wasn’t alone.
Standing on the wall a harpy eagle let out a shrill cry. Usually baby capys are their favorite fare but that hungry day any possible food was game. Fortunately for Camby the attack was foiled by the umbrella. Its repeated strike shredded the umbrella but not enough to hurt Camry’s fatty hide. What happened next showed Camby how important friends and family was. Several adult capys ran toward the commotion. The eagle did not expect to be suddenly crowded by so many of its prey. With a shriek it took off leaving the rescuers sniffing and licking the dishevelled Camby. That was lesson one for Camby – your family and friends can face your problems together.
The second lesson came on feeding day at the Izu Shaboten Park. They were all lazing in the onsen on a cold winter’s day. One capybara was actually asleep below the warm water drip. Then the zoo keeper came into the enclosure with the morning meal. Four or five capys were already waiting. More would leave the water and headed to the feeding tray. But one was still fast asleep. When the feeding begun two of them stopped and turned around to the pool and barked. So the sleeper was alerted to mealtime and learned the second lesson – Your friends will help you network for opportunities you need. But there remained one more lesson on social skills – leadership. It happened when survival of the herd was at stake.
Capybaras have no defense against attacks from predators such as jaguars, caimans and crocodiles. The only way as to run and hide. And awareness of danger is key. One day Camby was grazing off the reeds at the river where the rest of the herd was resting. Then out of the thick bush a pair of yellow dots were eyeing the herd. Camby sensed the jaguar immediately, gave a sharp bark and ran towards the water. All the rest of the herd rose in pandemonium and dashed towards the water. Your social circle will guard your back as you learn to protect your friends. Then comes old age. How do capys cope? Its a question that little is known. Perhaps more research would show that capybaras accept death stoically just like dogs or cats. Many of them would be killed in the wild by their usual predators and of course Man, who hunt them for their hides. Some would be kept as pets, but their lifespan is about 8 to 10 years, shorter in the wild.
Don’t shoot me, I’m just the clown
The clown fish (pomacentridae) has a weird sex life. All are born male but the dominant leader changes sex eventually to lay eggs in order to procreate. They have a pecking order of dominance so that the higher rank becomes female when the procreation chain is broken. Hence everyone else has to compete to mate with the leader. Such androgynous transformation is not atypical in the animal or insect world – such as snails and some papaya trees. Strange as this may be clown-fish spawning even depends delicately on the anemone nest where they live, eat and copulate. But the world’s coral reefs are slowly dying due to climate change and Nemu faces a bleak future. The living anemone that lives within stresses under higher temperatures, loses algae production and starves the reefs to death. There must be a world movement to delay bleaching because other organisms beside Nemu are suffering from the decaying ecosystem. Let’s continue the story of Nemu in this human-related tragedy of greenhouse disaster.
For some time now Nemu saw the size of his anemone nest becoming smaller. Less food meant that he or rather she and her fellow mates had less to eat and less shelter from the reef predators. But even the predators have diminished. Occasionally a reef shark would cruise around looking for crabs or bottom feeding crawlers. But then crabs and shellfish feed on the plankton that flourish among the reefs. When the reefs die the top predator hunt in shallow waters. So when a shark came upon Nemu in his forlorn nest it almost laughed at the clownish fish and disappeared. Then there were the big reef squids. The reefs were great places for them to hang their cluster of eggs during spawning. Once the reef dies the eggs became exposed to hungry eaters such as shrimps or crabs. So the squids left, as well as the crabs and shrimp. One day Nemu made up his mind – move or be the last to survive the reef. But how? Then one day a rare visitor glide by. It was a manta ray.
“Please Manta, can we get a ride on your back and bring us somewhere else?”. You’re welcome to cling to my back, but the current will wash you and your anemone nest away, came the reply. Nemu thought for a second but could not gather courage to ask. “What if we stay in your mouth would you promise not to swallow us?” – but the manta had already swam off and not heard the question. After some days a bevy of big reef squids came by, but not to stop at the reef. They were on their way somewhere to escape the dying reefs. Then came a shark, but Nemu was too terrified to ask for help.
And then there were no more visitors for several months. The reef colony was almost dead – Nemu and his mates were famished. The reef fell silent. Then one stormy day a big shadow moved slowly toward Nemu’s nest. It was a whale shark. This time Nemu would not let any chance slip by, even if it meant being swallowed whole.
The whale shark was quiet for a long while. Then through the bubble from its mouth it sounded like it agreed. And so Nemu and her mates swam into the mouth of the whale-shark, each holding a piece of whatever was left of the anemone nest. And so the ungainly monster moved off, ever so slowly on its epic journey. Nemu was lucky. Whale sharks are actually omnivores – they will eat plant matter or fish. But this particular whale-shark eats only plankton and plant matter. It was many months before the whale-shark came upon some reefs that was alive. Nemu and his mates emerged from its mouth, thankful that the whale-shark provided transport and protection from predators in its long and perilous journey across the Pacific. But then how long can Nemu stay in his new colony before runaway global warming destroys also this reef? Nemu would probably had to move again.
Love makes us truly human
Stories here might have been adapted from true ones.
Many things have been said or sung about love. It has been once said that when receiving love one would learn to give it. And this is true for children as well as animals. Its preserving quality defines how harmonious one’s life is, an enduring mark of our humanity. Several stories between man and even wild animals illustrates this. A pair of lovebirds was flying together near one of Taiwan’s highways. But one flew too close to a high tension cable, collided and fell on the roadside, lifeless. Its partner circled around baffled and soon came to its fallen spouse. Desperate and agitated it hopped around her, nudging it with its beak as if to resuscitate her. But she remained fallen, in her final twitchings. Then, amazingly, its mate flew off and soon returned with a beakful of worms. “Come on! Eat, you’ll be better!”, it seemed to say to her. But she remained still. More nudging with its beak as if to remind her of the food that they used to feed together, the mate persisted. If that’s not love you’d wonder what is. The same sadness happened to a pair of mongrels. One must have been hit by traffic, and while dying, its mate stayed by its side. These stories from loving dogs are well known, in particular the Akita named Hatchiko (eight legs) whose statue still stands near Tokyo’s Shibuya crossing.
It is not clear how animals choose their mates. The most common observation is the principle of having the fittest mate to bear one’s off-springs. Sight, smell, strength and sound are all factors for choice but it is unclear how animals decide, no more clear than how humans fall for a romantic relationship. But here is a story of how much love can span humans and their closest animal friend. Lori loves her dog Windy so much that she sleeps with her and seldom leaves her side. As a puppy, Windy does not know anyone else. The female border collie was also smart and responsive, like all border collies. She would anticipate her mistress every move – Lori would need only gesture to Windy and she’d know exactly what to do. This is so common, until one day Lori noticed something unusual. Windy would sometimes disappear for some time, but never fail to return for meals or retire to her bedroom. Lori thought little of it until one day she noticed Windy lactating. But where are the pups? She searched around the house to no avail. Windy had secretly hid her children from Lori but returning every day to her loving mistress. So Lori decided to attach a small camera. The following night she anxiously uploaded the video. It showed Windy making her way to a neighbor’s house, some distance away. There she was greeted by another dog, a mongrel. It appeared that the house was vacant and Windy’s mate was a stray. Later, the video showed the parents disappeared under the floorboards and everything went dark, except for the cries of puppies. Poor Windy – she could not betray her love for her puppies to the utter devotion of her mistress. But Lori understood it. She made sure Windy got her nutrition, proper baths and jabs against infection, knowing that after a safe period of time she had to do the same with the puppies. After three months, she approached the vacant house with Windy on a leash. She was surprised by the barking and ferocity of the sire. Windy could only respond with sympathetic whimpers. Lori withdrew. What can she do? Later the animal shelter came and took the father away. Lori was in tears and so was Windy. After some discussions she decided it was best to continue bringing Windy to the pups in the shelter. But Windy’s facial expression seemed to Lori that she was not exactly doing the honors. She’d rather be at home with Lori, snuggled in her bed. Lori could not afford to keep all five puppies. By observing how much Windy licked them she decided on her deemed favorite. Would you do this to your children?
Retirement – be that cornerstone
In life one often pays for the cheapness of a product. Also the appearance of things often is not what they seem to be. Take the insect world for instance. Its been said that 75% of all living species on earth are insects. Most such as hexapods undergo metamorphosis, which is a process of cell transformation. Other arthropods such as crabs, lobsters and most snakes molt in a similar process but do not undergo drastic physical changes. Molting allows for further growth, and for humans shedding of our skin serves a protective renewal of our bodies – about 3-4 kilograms of skin is shed yearly. But the most dramatic is the maturing of the caterpillar larvae into the full-blown butterfly.
Like a growing baby it starts vulnerable to any worm-eating creatures. And so with humans. We start without expecting to live a long life as we battle hurdles of growth, often thinking we would not make it past our illnesses. Then there are mental, social and emotional struggles, sometimes able to shut out our physical well-being by self-destruction. Later as we mature to be self-independent we might still fall behind in the economic battle-zones of the corporate world. Some are lucky to have family and friends’ generous support. Others can fall further down the tubes as our vulnerability is taken as a repulsion from more successful members of society. Such inward-looking depressions promote self-destruction, which animals and insects are not known to partake. What of the swallowtail caterpillar? Ever since it appeared from the egg it had to eat voraciously. Every leaf available is game. But where there are abundant vegetation there are also abundant eaters of all kinds. Among the birds the flycatchers favor caterpillars. If not a host of others like tanagers, warblers and such seize on the protein-rich worm, let alone the yellow-jacket wasps – besides humans, who recently started harvesting insects as a low carbon footprint food source. But unless you are a princeling, sheltered from life by affluent societies, by some endowment, or just a spoilt brat, you must at some time face competition either in school, sports or business. The swallowtail caterpillar’s struggle is far more grim – eat quickly or be eaten. Those, like some of us who survive the onslaught surreptitiously will reach the goal – for the swallowtail it is a metamorphosis, for us humans it is called retirement. Why so?
Because the struggle had subsided. Now is the time for you to show your full potential without having to compete for a slot that might not fit you anyway. Now is the time to step out of your presumed calling and taste the waters – of another source. Like the new creature you’ve evolved, now is the time to jump off the bus of cohorts and stretch your other unused, deformed limbs, and perhaps learn to fly. Now is the time to taste something else you were wrongly forbidden or unable to, just for the experience of living again. And perhaps once again, like the yellow-tail released from its cocooned tomb, now is the time for love. But you ask me, but I’ve done these while I was active before? The difference, my friend is in the worldview. For the caterpillar the period spent curled in its cocoon is a period of rejuvenated state. So is the need of the hardworking class. At some time of our lives we need a pause – a review of what direction our lives are heading. For some it comes as a furlough, or sabbatical, for others it might not be anything – just a chill out from breathless work and frenetic routines. But a warning is in order. For some of us, being ordered by routine and schedules is the most efficient use of our time – we may never know how to live otherwise. Then we realize that what we are can be defined by our work and meaningful contribution (to whatever). Our confidence as a human being might even be tied to the money we bring home and the status of our calling. Our humanness become unconsciously tethered to the network of people through which we operate daily. Even our holidays and periods of rest have context – they are there to help us work better or perform in the social fabric of a working society. In a sense – life is now being lived on auto cruise control. It is only when you reach the cocoon of rejuvenation and un-tethered rest that life becomes truly ours. What of the caterpillar? It stays in hibernation for a few weeks – compared to human years, its a quarter of their lifetime. It then develops overnight into a higher form of existence. Though it continues to seek food (nectar) it has one imperative task to fulfill – reproduce itself. For some of their species this is a mean job. Some had to fly for astronomical distances, until their wings are tattered before they could land a partner, any partner willing to spread his kind. Modern humans are not beholden to this sacred duty – ask the unmarried women devoted to their careers and various factors have diminished this call of nature. Ask the unmarried men and the plausible outcome of growing old and staying single is nothing to shout about. But retirement from work into a desire to live and fulfill to the maximum what you had always wanted to is different. Life suddenly has become even shorter. Where you have taken over two-thirds of your lifespan building a career, now there is less than a quarter, for some countries less than an eighth of a lifetime. Then when you get excited to do what remains to be done, life is too short again. Frenetic rush of fulfillment -but in a sweet at-your-own-time pace. But wait, the story of the humble green worm (papilio machoan) doesn’t end here.
Turns out that a long time ago when empires were being conquered and built there was a story about a grand construction project, as mentioned in one of Christ’s metaphors. The project required the sourcing of materials throughout the region to build this historic building, probably a revered temple or some spectacular government palace. Stones of all sizes were sent to the site from merchants willing to sell whatever was profitable. So after the masons had decided which boulder would form which column work proceeded and was nearly completed. Except that when minarets were built upwards the keystone that holds all the circular structures together was placed last, locked into place. As the architect examined the planned keystone, he discovered a fault – probably a crack, discoloration or a fault in the rock, overlooked by the merchants eager to make a quick sale. But there were no more rocks that would be good enough to be the cornerstone – except one that was rejected earlier because it was brought in from a quarry not known to be superior for buildings. But then work could not wait to find another suitable keystone because the structure was unstable until locked in place. So reluctantly the rejected one became the cornerstone and became the centerpiece. How often the least likely to succeed becomes the resounding cerebrant in life! We may be overlooked for other more impressive candidates, but no one can tell that a great achiever could perhaps be one who was once dismissed as a dismal failure.
Ladies don’t give up on your eggs!
Not since the end of WWII when about 20 million male combatants died have so many developed countries face the dire consequences of population decline as today. 48% of the world live in countries below sub-replacement level – all of Europe is below 2.1 and the lowest? Singapore, HK, Japan and S Korea around 1+ TFR. With such total fertility rate some countries have resorted to welcome foreign labor to fill the jobs shunned by the citizen populations. There doesn’t seem to be a proper manpower solution for a country to continue growing as guest workers are not expected to have a stake in a country’s wellbeing. Animals and insects have a different problem – their extinction are often related to habitat destruction due to a country’s economic growth, or the loss of resources such as food. The balance of economic growth and environmental sustenance is a recognized problem in modern times. However sometimes animals species need a little help from humans in order to exist.
The sea turtles nest 2 to 8 times a year and average 50 to 100 eggs after mating. When they do they prepare their nests on shore by laboriously digging with their back flippers. After they had carefully covered the laid eggs and camouflaged it, they leave for the sea and do not return to the same place until the next season. After about 45 days the hatch-lings break out of their shells and surviving on their own make a desperate rush towards the sea while predators like gulls and other seabirds lie waiting.
It seems a little puzzling why in certain mammals reproduction means the end of life while in others, and that includes humans, reproduction can be perennial. The squid, salmon and the butterflies had one chance and their life would be completed. For the turtle however, it might meet up with its offspring and might not even know it. Perhaps humans have lost the concept of procreation as an extension of their life, but not in a literal sense. We look at the story of Daub, a young Indonesian boy who lives on a remote island that once had hundreds of leather-backs coming onshore to lay eggs. Being poor, he along with others had been collecting the eggs for sale as soon as the belabored mother lumbers back to sea. But lately he noticed that fewer and fewer turtles have come. It had to be, as not enough eggs hatch for the next generation of returnees. Daub knew he had to do something and decided that from henceforth he would collect the eggs for rejuvenation. But it may have been too late, as for weeks none of the turtles appeared. One early morning, around 3 am when the turtles were wont to land, he heard the sound of scratching sand. He expected, as usual, to see a humped body coming towards him. But this time it was different. Crawling near was a saltwater crocodile, its jaws menacing. Daud almost jumped up from the sand dune. It seemed that the lucrative turtle eggs was about to turn crocodilian. The next morning Daud called the village chief. The council of village custodians arrived at the spot. They got a shocking surprise. The hatching area had turned into a favorite spot for crocodiles. Nobody would eat a crocodile egg and the local economy for turtle eggs collapsed. Daub had an idea. What if we move the crocodile eggs to a designated spot and cultivate more turtles to revisit their spot? Later a enterprising man suggested starting a crocodile farm to produce skins for handbags. So the council convened and decided that from henceforth, the village would conserve the turtle and breed crocodiles for skin. Later a UN-sponsored study of the surrounding ecology revealed that the turtles are part of the food-chain to balance the vegetation on land and sea. Daub was overjoyed to be part of the study. Today if you happen to snorkle-dive around this Indonesian island for the rich variety of fish and underwater vegetation you might come upon a skinny bare-back boy riding on the back of a giant leather-back. He follows the turtle to observe what they feed on and where they would go to breed. He may still be poor but he champions the care of the sea from the polluting plastics and trash that rich tourists discard in disregard.
The cockerel stopped crowing
Out in the suburbs of London is a farm. The Eddington farm has been around for about a century, rearing pigs, chicken, ducks and a few milking cows. But one of its domicile has a peculiar habit. The single cockerel would crow at precisely 11 am, and only on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Nobody at the farm knew why. Until a visitor came to stay at the farm. She had just flown into London the day earlier, visited the city’s surrounds and decided to do a farm-stay that weekend. After breakfast with her host she chatted around the table for a while, until the cockerel crowed. What a feisty call, commented Susan. The comment made the host raise the riddle of the time and frequency of the cockerel’s salute of the day. After listening to her host Susan replied wryly. “Funny, I was just visiting Windsor Castle on Thursday and the guide told me about the changing of the guard. He said that it happens only at 11 am on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. But it may just a coincidence for the cockerel.” So nothing further of that conversation that day and Susan left on Monday to continue her tour.
Life went on normally at the farm for several weeks. Then a new cockerel joined the farm. It was introduced for breeding so that the hens would produced healthier chicken or produce better eggs. The two got along pretty well, strutting around as if in interesting conversation most of the day. After several days of the new arrival the host noticed something strange. The new cockerel would crow only on days the first does not, and exactly at 11 am. It was as if they had agreed between themselves to do the crowing on alternate days. But it did helped the host plan his schedule. He could tell which cockerel was crowing by its pitch and he would know what to do for that day – even days of the week he’ll go to the local market to deliver supplies and odd days (and Sundays) to buy grain and feed. Then another visitor arrived for home-stay. Over the breakfast table the host heard something uncanny. This time around the visitor had visited Buckingham palace. And sure enough the “guard mounting” at Buckingham occurs only on odd days (and Sundays) at precisely 11 am. Could it be another coincidence? The farmer decided to do an experiment. He took a train to London – to where he could talk with the scheduler for the guard-mounting ceremony. He found out something interesting. On All-Souls day there was to be a change of schedule for a week. The Windsor guards would change on odd days and the Buckingham guards mount on even days. This time during the week the mounting would begin precisely at 10 am.
The farmer waited in earnest for All-Soul’s day. Then on Monday the older cockerel crowed precisely at 10 am. The next day the new cockerel took his turn at 10 am. Precisely as if they had planned, that the older cockerel crows for the Windsor mounting and the newer for the Buckingham mounting. As if to confirm it the farmer watched it happened for the whole week. Then at the following week everything was reversed at the schedule for the crowing, precisely at 11 am, as before. The farmer was bemused and decided he should publicize it to attract visitors to his homestay. “Come stay at Eddington farm – and watch the cockerels mount the changing of the guard” – says the advertisement flyer.
Many tourists began flocking to the farm such that some were turned away for the limited bedrooms available. The farmer was esthetic for the increased income – more than any from the eggs he could sell. Until 19 September 2022. The cockerels stopped crowing. The farmer was befuddled. Until he read it in the Times the next day. “Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II was laid to rest at the Memorial chapel.”
The jaguar’s strength
The jaguar (panthera subspecies)is the third largest cat in the world after the lion and tiger. It is hardly seen in North America today and hunts mostly in the Amazon rain forests or rivers. It preys on land animals such as the capybara, turtles and peccary (wild pigs) although it is also an agile swimmer and underwater hunter.
Below the tranquil waters
fallenpillar 